Borderline
by Poncey of the Lions
Summary: Living cards, magic powers, OCs. Lyn and Sparrow were your -almost- average friends until DD Survivor was released into reality and sought Lyn out as the Chosen One. The world will never be the same again.
1. Pilot, or the Prologue

**AN: Guess what people: I beat the Man!!! I got over my procrastination and I sat down and I wrote this! I finally got the plot-bunny for the Yu-Gi-Oh story that I wanted to write!! It was amazing, writing these couple-hundred words. Best hour in a long while. Umm, tell me what you think, if you don't mind. I'd like some support. Written under the influence of Steve Conte & The Crazy Truth, but it's not a songfic. I just listen to Steve Conte a lot. I'm warning you, this prologue's a bit dark. Future chapters will be much longer, I promise.**

**Dedicated to my amiga, Emily-chan! I finally got the Yu-Gi-Oh stuff I wanted to write! Thanks for the support, Shadowrosedragon! Oh, and thanks for the story of RP that entertains me on lonely winter nights. Hope you enjoy, wherever this goes.**

**Disclaimers: I own nothing!!! Except maybe some card decks and a couple of booster packs and whatever monsters I kidnap from my brother (but you didn't hear that from me).**

**And now for my first attempt at Yu-Gi-Oh. And now I present to thee the prologue of this tale…**

The void of darkness that rested before him was all he had ever known. A desert of ebony sand stretched out for miles in front of him and a night sky with the barest smattering of feeble stars lay abandoned behind him. Fog loomed heavily in patches, wisps curling and collecting in nooks and crannies. The air was saturated with the tang of old blood and fallen bodies that littered the ground hundreds of miles away from the man. A steady torrent of wind howled across the landscape, screaming its cries of pain to anyone who would listen while grains of glassy sand spiraled to the tune.

Of course, the man was the only one to listen. It had been that way for quite some time.

Who was he? Frankly the man didn't know. One moment, it was nothing but black. The next, the figure found himself at the edge of this desert. It was like he had entered the world in the form of a tall man whose right arm and leg were replaced by hunks of incandescent steel. He had no memories of his past. Nothing. Just him standing here and trekking across barren wasteland, searching. For what, he wasn't sure either.

But one thing he did know: he was a survivor. The bodies he had left long ago served as proof for that.

So he had to continue, had to discover the source of the pull within his soul.

The wind tugged at his tattered burlap cloak, daring the fabric's frayed edges to dance. The man took the gusts as an invitation and stepped forward. His metal leg creaked on its un-oiled hinges as he trudged softly. The heavy weight made him limp slightly and after a while he decided to rest.

He sat down at the edge of a dune, sheltered from the harsh, unrelenting breeze. He looked back to see how far he had come. The breeze erased his footprints and every weathered hill looked the same. He realized with sadness that he had no idea how far he'd traveled.

Not that he cared. He wanted to find civilization. He felt like he was in a graveyard.

He slumped against the dune, closed his chestnut eyes, and let his sweat-soaked hair fall into his eyes. He was a survivor. That was what he would do until he found a purpose- survive. He let himself drift off to sleep. He would figure things out in the morning.

If there ever was a morning.


	2. Of Sparrows and Linnets

**AN: Haha, yes!!! Chapter one is up, people!! I enjoyed writing this. Lyn is cool, in my opinion. But then again, she's my OC so I would say something like that. You steal her, I eat you. Not literally. But I will eat you. Same applies to any of my OCs. Other than that *disclaimers* I own nothing! Humble respects to the author and animators of this awesome anime. I hope someone is actually spectacular enough to review this! Oh, and actual characters from the anime are coming sooner than you think…**

**This chapter was written under the influence of the song Rooftops (A Liberation Broadcast) by Lostprophets. Kudos to them, because it's an amazing song.**

**Here it is, El Numero Uno. Enjoy it in its entire splendor!!**

_**Standing on the rooftops  
Everybody scream your heart out.  
Standing on the rooftops  
Everybody scream your heart out.  
Standing on the rooftops  
Everybody scream your heart out.  
This is all we got now  
Everybody scream your heart out.**_

**Salutations from the Author, Poncey**

Today was the day.

The girl slumped over with her head in her hands. She took one last look at the rows of wooden desks, the dainty fingers, and the clock before closing her eyes.

_Why does the Academy have to get out later than everywhere else? I mean, it is summer already!_

She started fidgeting under the table, tapped her feet randomly to the tune of her flexing fingers.

_One minute left. One single, stupid minute._

She counted down the seconds in her mind, relishing each tick of the old grandfather clock in the back of the stuff academy classroom. It was almost time.

School would end in sixty seconds.

She could almost taste it.

_Three._

She was practically delirious with her own glee. She let out a glorious laugh, interrupting whatever nonsense the teacher had just spewed. She'd never have to set foot in here again.

_Two._

Regardless of the fact that she was still in class, she shoved her chair back and stood up as the rest of the class stared at her. They usually did, so it wasn't much news to anyone. Besides, she liked it when people stared at her.

_One._

The grandfather clock let out its mandatory chime and shattered the silence. She grinned like a wicked monkey and began to run just as the clock tower a mile away gave a dong to beat the band.

*****

It was one of those lazy summer days where the heat of the sun mingled between the alleyways and radiated off the metal and tile of the commonplace buildings. The sun poked its way through thin clouds, rays illuminating black thatch roofs. There was no sense of rain or foreboding. The people continued to bustle and chatter as they always did. The radios that lined the windows released cheerful, average music. It was the type of day that passed without much notice, and it would have done so if not for one minute detail.

The rooftops of Domino City played home to many different things. The most prominent was its structure: black thatched tile that held itself by its hinges, but a hair from falling off onto the cobblestones below. They clung desperately to their host building's foundation, the right trigger causing them to fall. In places, the streets were littered with shards of the black tile, an obstacle for the passersby. Birds curled their skimpy nests of brittle twigs into the gutter; grumpy wasps let their nests hang off the edges of them. Even the occasional stray cat found sanctuary amidst the sea of tile.

But one such rooftop held a different treasure: a child.

A boy of twelve sat on a particularly crumpled roof, weather-tanned face slumped in a rough hand. Spikes of pale gray hair fell into a pointed face. With golden eyes, he surveyed the avenues, watching innocent pedestrians tromp by and busses fly in a flash to an obscure destination. He shifted his position to rest on his back, bits of dust floating everywhere at the impact of his small body. He watched a cloud float slowly across the sky, lazily tracing how it took the shape of a rabbit and then morphed into a disfigured hand.

Boring, as usual.

It was so much more interesting when she was there.

_Why does her school take so long to get out? _He thought lazily to himself. He rolled onto his side to peer at Mrs. Penrose's Academy for the Developing Woman. The droll mansion-like building stuck out like a rainbow on a cloudy day. It looked pristine, buried under a layer of black paint. Its arched windows jutted out from above gable trim, turrets twisted into the sky. A rickety front porch shaded an elaborately carved front door. It rested in silence on bated breath. It also knew what was coming.

The boy felt the outline of the object he prized press against his thigh. The time was coming. Soon. They were going to have an amazing adventure today.

The boy sat up again and squinted into the distance. He caught sight of what he was looking for: the clock tower. It told him there was one minute left. He watched the clock tick down the remaining seconds carefully.

_Three._

He laughed as the wind ruffled his hair. A sparrow launched itself from its perch on the roof and flapped into the distance. He watched it go, wishing that he could spread his wings and fly away too.

_Two._

He pushed himself into a standing position, letting the breeze flap his navy coat-tails. He never knew why he wore a suit anyway. He'd just get it dirty later when he and the girl went exploring the city.

_One._

A large dong shattered the silence and let everyone know that the time was four o'clock. He wanted to jump from the roof but he knew he should wait.

The academy door opened slowly. The product of fourteen years of work on innocent orphan girls was apparent before they had opened the door. Mindless corpses of a funeral home full of sewing and doilies walked in a dainty march. The puppets that left the building stepped on their tip-toes, back erects, noses pointing towards the sun. Thick tresses of curly hair floated down their backs, not a strand out of place. They all wore the same floor-length black dresses and flats, untouched by ground or time.

Well, all except for one.

"I'M FREE!" The mindless chorus of the Academy's bad seed reverberated through the halls she sprinted. She shoved the door open so hard that it almost flew off its hinges and actually cracked in places.

She ripped across the emerald grass and began to pull her dress over her head. The first thing revealed were ripped ivory sneakers whose soles were practically falling off. Then the bare calves and the short, mud-splattered khakis. After dragging the dress over her head, she showed a baggy, wrinkled mint tank-top. A wooden and intricately carved medallion bounced back and forth on a leather cord, and another leather cord was tied about her wrist so loosely it looked like it would fall off any second now. Her hair was not long, neat or curly. Uncombed, short hair the color of chestnuts blew in the wind, the only hint of anything remotely average being the side bang the ended in a point and threatened to obscure the right side of her face. Her mahogany eyes gleamed with absolute happiness and sly madness from behind plastic, square glasses.

Lyn Holloway. Otherwise known by any young child as The Vagabond. Anytime there was trouble, they knew that she was in the middle of it. And currently, she was very much in the middle of it.

"I can't believe I'm finally free!" She bellowed to the Academy's rusting iron gate and the sky and the clouds. Her boyish voice full of stubbornness hurt many of the other girl's ears. "YES! I can finally run though the streets and blow all my money on candy and _burn_ this _blasted_ dress!" She shoved the girls she passed haphazardly, pushing her way though the sea of aristocrats until she jumped clean over the iron fence that had held her spirit captive for so many years. She threw her dress on the streets, where it was soon trampled.

She found her only friend standing on the roof like he always did, waiting for her like he always had and, had school continued any longer, probably always would.

"Did you hear that, Sparrow?" She called up to the boy. "I never have to sit up straight or listen to what anyone tells me EVER AGAIN!"

The boy, Sparrow, looked down at the girl and nodded in recognition. "I've got something to tell you!" He hollered from the roof. "Something important! Hold on a sec…" Smiling, he jumped clumsily down in a flurry of arms and legs and by some unknown force managed to land on his feet.

"Still up to your old shenanigans, I see. Now, what was it you wanted to tell me?" Lyn asked once Sparrow regained his sense of balance.

Sparrow laughed. "Boy, am I ever!" Wasting no time, he dug through his pockets for several minutes. After pulling out a penny, a broken button, a hunk of bread, and a small crimson box he produced a tiny, golden key.

"Today, Lyn, you and I have the honored privilege of robbing a house."


	3. Crash Course

**AN: So… how's everyone doing? What rests here before you is the product of two viruses, three rewrites and half an hour's extra work of procrastination. Chapter 2 is finally up. Today's influence is a cup of coffee and a song by Neon Trees.**

**Dedication is the usual, my awesome amiga Shadowrosedragon, who's OC I have carefully borrowed and is in no way mine. Her personality will get more accurate, I promise. Sorry this took so long, Emily-chan!**

**Disclaimers stand a thus: This is Yu-Gi-Oh. For Pete Wentz's sake I own absolutely nothing of this anime. If I did, I wouldn't be writing FANfiction. And I don't own the OC you'll meet either.**

_**Here we are again,  
I feel the chemicals kicking in.  
Its getting heavy and I want run and hide, **_

_**I want to run and hide.**_

… _**Oh oh what are you waiting for?**_

**I bid thee adieu for now. Enjoy!**

And so, they set off.

The instant Sparrow had given Lyn the address she snatched the key from his hand, yelled "What are you waiting for?" and took off running. That was just how she worked. 'Standing' did not register well in her brain, and when it came down to how she lived her life, it wasn't a concept.

The sun glowed in large streaks and poured over the two companions darting their way up the street. The world lay bathed in harsh light, the city practically glowing with it.

Lyn lead the procession, kicking up dirt with shoes that flapped in the wind. Strands of messy hair filled her face, but she knew the city better than the back of her hand. The only things she actually had to look out for were people, but that shouldn't have been too much of a challenge for her.

It really shouldn't have. But it was.

She screamed when she ran into the fruit vendor's cart.

She tripped over a pebble, landed face-first into the apples, and sent a parade of watermelons rolling down the hill. The cart splintered under impact and the pieces joined hunks of tile on the sidewalk. Several heads turned.

"Hey!" the vendor roared from behind a mass of bald, bright red, and quivering flesh, spit flying everywhere. He looked more like a conniving butcher than an innocent seller of fruits. "That's my produce you just ran into, miss!"

Lyn jumped up and pulled an apple from the cart. She laughed and bit into the crisp fruit. "And it sure tastes good, mister," she chortled with a full mouth. Juice dribbled down her chin.

Then she threw the apple behind her and continued running.

On the inside, Sparrow grinned to himself. On the outside, he leapt over pieces of smashed provisions, bumping into bystanders and stuttering apologies. The whole time he struggled to keep up with the girl who currently had enough energy to beat grown men in a marathon. It was a miracle he made it to the house in one piece.

The first thing he did, before helping Lyn put the key into the lock, was slump against the chipped lavender door and wipe beads of sweat form his forehead.

"Lyn," he gasped.

"Hmm?" She was trying to figure out where the key went into the intricate security system. The circular lock, a foot wide and two inches deep, presented as a severe challenge because it had no less than ten keyholes. The key could have fit into any one of them and still not worked. Lyn's brows furrowed, her mouth hardened into a thin line, and she slammed her fist against the door.

"Never. Do. That. Again. We could have been arrested for Dueling's Sake!" He sighed, and shook his head. "You're never going to get anywhere like that." He took the key from her hand and shoved it in the lock in the upper right-hand corner. He turned it clockwise. Lyn pressed her ear to the door and nodded as it clicked, listening to the gears whir and the cogs turn and hum.

She pulled her head away. "So where'd you get this key, anyway?"

"Well I-"

"What the heck do you think you're doing?"

An unknown, rough voice interrupted his explanation.

Sparrow spun around only to come face to face with a girl. Purple hair hung in mismatched spikes down her back and equally purple bangs drooped down into thin, raised eyebrows. Her eyes glowed with a hazel fire so monstrous all the water in the world couldn't quench it. A thin t-shirt, black and splattered with roses, and a short, equally black skirt completed most of her apparel. Black boots ended just below her knees. She stood a head taller than him, looming over him. He spied the tattoo of a crimson rose on her cheek, saturated petals dripping the color of blood.

He tried to say something, but ultimately couldn't.

"Hey!" she cried, waving her arms about in the air. "I said what the heck do you think you're friggin' doing?"

Silence for the longest time. Complete and total silence.

A thin, simple smile barely upturned the edges of chapped lips. He chuckled softly, peering down at the sidewalk. He muttered something low and incomprehensible, something the girl standing in front of him did not catch.

"I didn't hear you," she snarled.

Sparrow raised his eyes to meet hers, a small flame beginning to spread behind his. "CODE THREE!" he bellowed.

Lyn flung the door open so that it slammed against the wall, disappearing into the rooms before she could be stopped. The other girl started running, but Sparrow dove in front of her, continually blocking the way into her house. The girl ran straight for Sparrow, and shoved him. He flew off his feet and skidded across the hardwood floor. He bumped into a dresser with a very harsh _thud_ and jumped up almost instantly afterwards. The world began to spin under his feet. Dots swarmed in front of his face, but he chased them away by thinking hard about his surroundings.

The floor was unstained, and until now, unscratched. The dresser he had hit lay pressed against the wall. A mirror with a wooden frame hung above it. A cot shoved into the corner was the only other furniture in the large expanse of room. On his left, there were several doors and open passageways, showing that the house really was more than it seemed. To his right, there was an open space where a door should have been, and in that room he spied a sink, an oven, and a fridge.

All the free wall space not covered in rough sketches of anime-style characters and landscapes was covered in wallpaper that was filled with roses and long, thorny stems.

_Man this girl likes roses_, he noted.

In the distance, he heard the rush of water and distinctly caught the scent of flowers. A pool and a garden, probably.

The girl closed the door, faced her opponent, and in an act of madness, growled in imitation of a wolf. "You're not going to escape."

"Lyn!" he called to his companion. "The card we're looking for is in the blue case on top of the fridge!"

Suddenly, the girl with the violet hair appeared right in front of him. He should have known she was coming. He should have recognized it. He should have made a move to stop her. Words that he wanted to say were blurring on his tongue, lost before he could utter them. The dots returned, sounds slowed. Life began to blur at the edges.

The concussion that he just received from his collision had not only slowed his reflexes, but it was going to knock him out as well.

That's when the realization hit him, both literally and figuratively.

_We need to get out of here right now _was the thought that he had formulated just as the girl punched him.

He hit the dresser again, this time with his back. With a weakened sigh, he sank to the ground, unconscious.

"I'm going to kill you both!" the victor practically roared. "Or my name isn't Shadowia Umaheki!"

Mere feet, but miles away, Lyn's fingers closed around the case. The plastic emanated with warmth. It must have been something the possessor touched constantly. She launched herself away from the ebony refrigerator.

She looked just in time to see her friend fall to the ground and her enemy turn to face her. She peered around the kitchen, dazed by the black and white tile that made up the floor. A few feet in front of her, she spied a small backscratcher. Unable to locate another weapon, she quickly picked it up. It, too, was covered in roses, the prongs at the end made to look like thorns.

_Oh,_ she thought. _How _lovely_. Not only 'm I gonna get caught, but when the police find my body, the thing they'll pry from my fingers won't be something cool like a knife or a frying pan. I'll die holding a stolen card and backscratcher. _

Shadowia spun sideways, flinging herself towards the thief.

"Your next," she muttered soothingly, a comforting whisper that only made Lyn's palms sweat and her eyes widen.

She needed to scram, and fast.

"I'd love to see you try!" She jumped over Shadowia, grasped her down-for-the-count cohort by the collar, and whirled towards the door. Shadowia chased after her, coiled and ready to spring. Lyn grasped the knob and prepared to turn it…

…When the door burst open by itself.

She gasped, stumbling backwards. Sparrow slipped from her grasp to the ground.

Shadowia smirked at the figure in the doorway and gave a soft nod. She calmly walked forward, anger hidden for just a second.

Lyn's head moved from side-to-side, searching for another exit and finding none. Shadowia was behind her, Sparrow to her side, and the dark figure in front of her.

Shadowia extended a hand to the person in front of her. "Well, it's about time. I thought you'd never show up."


End file.
